


Tourist Season

by brodeurbunny30



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Charl you poor tortured man, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, Retail AU, charles is really good at guessing, charles trying to not be creepy and failing, customer service au, excessive tag usage, guess the tourist's accent, mall job, schmediums, this is probably OOC but just go with it, try to laugh, weird customers, what not to do around crazy hot customers, you should call security on shouty guy though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 12:18:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6116230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brodeurbunny30/pseuds/brodeurbunny30
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Retail worker AU where Charles works at a sports apparel shop in  a mall in Colorado where tons of tourists visit during spring ski season.</p>
<p>Charles along with his co-workers Raven and Moira play 'guess the accent' and deal with an insanely hot European customer trying on too small shirts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tourist Season

**Author's Note:**

> in response to idareu2bme asking for the cherik'd version of this text post
> 
> avengeful-bunny:
> 
> Three seriously cut and shredded german guys came into shop at my store today.
> 
> I went into the back room, came back out and saw them shirtless and trying on on different shirts and I literally turned right around and hid in the back room.
> 
> My co-worker caught on and asked me ‘what? Are half naked Germans not your thing?’
> 
> I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed ‘no, you don’t understand just how much that IS my thing.’
> 
> Other co-worker lunching in back room ‘that’s like a 14/10 for her’

“I can’t believe it’s tourist season already, Charles” Raven was sighed dramatically as she readjusted her leaning stance against the register counter. She arched her neck, “Feels like Christmas just ended.”

"That's cause it did. It's February." Charles fucked around with the stapler like he usually did to kill time at the Sports Shoppe. Being in a mall just one hour outside the mountains in Colorado meant that they dealt with a ton of tourists. The spring ski season was ramping up hard and seemed like every second or third customer was from somewhere else. A fact of which meant that he spent a lot of time playing ‘guess where they are from’ with his co-workers.

Today was no exception. A couple strolled in wearing matching grey leggings and small lightweight puffer jackets and ear warmers.

He didn’t even bother lifting his head. “Europeans.”

Raven cocked a disbelieving eyebrow. “You know, just because you were born in England, does not make you an expert on Europeans. They look local.”

Charles put down the stapler. “Go talk to them. I bet I’m right.”

Raven huffed and prepared to engage them, “Charles, you are not a mind reader, you will be wrong.”

Charles hovered by a nearby clothing rack as Raven greeted the couple who happily chatted back in strangely accented voices. Raven glared as she mimicked a bit of their speech to Charles. He smiled knowingly. “I knew it.” 

“Well, you’re right, they’re German.”

“I only said they were European.” He corrected. “I heard them. That is not German.”

 

“It so is!” She argued, “I’m going to go ask them. They are definitely German.”

He unfolded and refolded the same shirt three times as he listened to Raven use the same ‘how’s the weather?’ tone with her visiting customers that everyone on staff used to play this sick game of who knows tourist accents better. He caught a few sounds that were beginning to sound a bit German, but still… a little off.

She was smug upon her return. “They’re Swiss-German. So technically we’re both right.”

Charles clenched his fist dramatically. “I knew they weren’t from Germany.”

Raven opened her mouth to argue but it wasn’t worth it. “I’m going for lunch.”

Although Raven had left him to man the sales floor alone, which was always the loneliest bit, a semi-familiar face arrived to his aid. He hadn’t seen the new girl in a week and was actually fairly surprised she showed up. Last he heard Moira had earned an internship with the Government that seemed to be a big enough deal.

He certainly wondered why she bothered to show up for this part-time mall gig at all. There was nothing impressive about this job, except for maybe the strangeness of humanity that you were forced to engage with on a regular basis. He had plans to escape soon, very soon. Soon as his acceptance into the Genetics program he applied for came through. He’d already be doing it if it wasn’t for that volunteer mission gone wrong in Cuba. Saying it ‘went wrong’ was putting it mildly, taking into account he’d spent eight weeks in hospital and would be doing physio twice a week for his back pain for the rest of his life. Whatever though, life goes on.

Moira greeted him as she threw on the faded store polo and equally dehumanizing name tag and joined him at the register counter.

“Tourist season already eh, Professor?” She was the only one at the store who latched onto his nickname soon as she had heard it. It was a bit insufferable, but that was his academic endgame. He nodded “Oh yeah, you know it.”

She beat him to the punch, though, as a smoking hot guy strolled into the store from the lease line. “Look how slick he is. Not a hair out of place. He’s European. Look how tight his clothes are. They don’t wear giant American sizes. He’s going to try on a small, I just know it.” Moira’s eyes lit up as they clearly ignored the timed greeting rule and stared at this magnificent specimen of a human being.

Charles felt his chest tighten as he drew in his breath. The guy had the shoulder to waist ratio of a super hero. He appeared super ripped, if the tightly fitting white polo he was wearing was any indication–and it was, considering it left nothing to the imagination. “He’s going to try the small, but it won’t fit, but he’ll have to settle for the medium.”

Moira giggled to herself. “Ah yes, the schmedium, for large shoulders aiming to look buff in shirts that are far too small. I think you are right Professor. Let us test the theory.”

She greeted him first in the Customer Service Sing-Song voice, similar to the ‘i work at the bank and I’m not allowed to be mean to you’ voice but more minimum wage. Moira had picked up on its nuanced glory very quickly as she had already spent some time with the government. Charles found himself casually inserting himself into areas near to the new handsome stranger, fixing already perfect displays, listening.

One sentence was all it took and they both shared knowing glances and mouthed ‘He’s German’ as the strange assumed-German pawed through a few racks of sports clothing.

Charles made a few hand flailing signals to Moira as he picked through the rack for all the size smalls (the colour coded hanger tags were an easy way to know if a schmedium situation was about to happen) and she shot him a strange questioning look as he bailed and headed for the staff room.

There were a few sets of people he couldn’t help, as a rule. This included, but not limited to teenagers low riding their jeans and wearing grills, deep orange spray tanned housewives and insanely hot Europeans with impeccable taste and impeccable pecs. He fanned himself as he imagined the guy in the change room peeling off his polo and dragging a size too small shirt over his perfect dorito body. He was immediately reminded of the time he almost fell off the ladder when that hot Russian guy appeared out of nowhere and tore off his shirt in the middle of the store to try on some schmediums. That was almost the most hilarious worker’s comp story ever.

He pushed open the staff room door a little too vigorously, and with a tad too much sexual frustration.

Raven looked up from her sandwich. “What the hell, Charles? What’s wrong? Are you hiding from that Shouty guy again? I told you just to call security.”

He fanned himself. He could feel himself flush just thinking about that guy out there who was either the insanely hot bad boy Euro–potentially serial killer. All the super hot ones were like that. Or maybe a vain, movie star type who was only interested in riding motorcycles and wearing leather jackets. His mind was racing. This guy was hot enough to be both of those types and it was making him hot under his threadbare polo collar.

He gave her his pathetic, I’m-going-to-jail-for-trying-to-kidnap-a-hot-customer look, which was a thing, especially at the mall. “Raven, there is a ridiculously sexy suave German man out there, I’m back here so I don’t accidentally act creepy. I’m thinking of it as job protection.”

Raven cackled. “Oh my god, I have to see.” She pulled the door open and scanned the floor. She spied him picking between some workout shirts with a very lecherous Moira at his side. “Okay, that’s fair. But like, you know you seem even weirder by hiding back here.”

Charles glared at her. It was a ploy of course, she was indeed interested in watching him make a complete ass of himself in front of her. Granted, he’d do the same to her if the roles were reversed.

“Fine.” He swung open the door and stepped two feet onto the floor before stopping in his tracks. The German was definitely cut. He was now half naked, shirtless and trying on workout shirts. He was modelling them sexily in the tall wall mirrors and Charles felt his face grow hot, and his dick twitch and one thousand other sexually frustrating little sensations that shouldn’t happen while he played Retail Robot on the sales floor. He spun on his heel and darted right back into the staff room.

Raven laughed as he stumbled right back in with his face flush and beginning to sweat. “Oh my god, what now?”

He massaged his temples to calm his nerves. “He’s half naked and trying on clothes just out in the open. I cannot even deal with that man right now.”

Raven yanked open the door. “This I have to see.”

Charles just stood in the back room seething with lust for a man he hadn’t even spoken with yet. This must be what it felt like to be a teenage boy band fan.

Raven stumbled back into room. “Oh my god. You weren’t kidding. He’s hot. He’s really hot. Okay, yep, I see it now. Just stay back here, I don’t have enough bail money for you.”

 

Charles rolled his eyes. “Thanks?”

Just then the door popped open again, this time Moira’s eager picket fence PTA mom face appeared. “Oh my god, Professor, what the heck was that? Are half-naked Germans not your thing?”

Charles pinched his nose and pleaded. “No, I don’t think you understand just how much they ARE my thing.”

 

Raven laughed, “It’s true. They’re like a 14 out of 10 for him.”

Moira glared at him, “So you’re avoiding him? He looks legal to me. Like extra legal. Like older sugar daddy, legal. Or steal things for you illegal. He’s got quite the shark grin, Professor. Might want to bat those eyelashes a bit.”

Raven approached and pinched his cheek. “Play with your hair, people love your pretty hair.”

He batted her hand away. “I can’t. And I hate you both.”

But he followed Moira, and strolled out onto the floor where the German was still taking off shirts and trying on others. It was like watching the behind the scenes of a sexy photo shoot.

“I’ll ring him through, you just look pretty.”

The German made it to the desk without further stripping and flashed Charles a dazzling smile which seemed to light up the dimly lit store and effectively cause Charles to suffer brain damage from oxygen deprivation as he had forgotten in that moment to breathe.

Moira saw his mouth gaping like a fish and dashed into saving him by distracting the gentleman and getting him all rung up like her co-worker wasn’t acting like a complete nimrod.

“So how long are you visiting for?” Charles heard the words leave his mouth but he was stunned he had said them. The gentleman grinned at him. “Four days. I spent one day at the mountains skiing, one in the hot springs, today is shopping, and tomorrow I am doing an Art Show.”

“Hot Springs are amazing!” He responded over-enthusiastically as his brain dwelled on imagining the German’s beautiful body all heat slicked and wet and flushed and…he felt his face getting redder.

Moira cut in, “An Art Show? That’s so neat!” Her small-talk voice was back but the German didn’t seem to notice. He reached into his pocket for his wallet and from it retrieved a card and slid it across the counter. “I’m an artist, actually. I work with metal and create interactive installations. It is a public show, you should come and see it.”

Moira snatched the card and she glanced over as he paid for his purchase. As his card processed, she looked over to catch Charles batting his eyelashes and blushing as the German.

“I think that’s doable.” He reached out his hand, “Charles.” The German took it in a firm grip and selfishly Charles hoped he didn’t feel the slight tremble in his touch.

“Erik, pleasure to meet you.”

It was an oddly long exchange and just then Raven tumbled out of the staff room. Her presence broke the spell and each nodded as Erik the German Artist took his things and left, leaving only a neatly printed business card as proof of his appearance.

“I think that’s doable.” Moira imitated and laughed. “He’s going to buy you such nice things.”

 

Charles glared. “I actually hate you so much, right now.”

Raven butted in aggressively, “Oh my god, why does everything crazy always happen when I take a break?”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at avengeful-bunny.tumblr.com


End file.
